


Fear Makes the Wolf Look Bigger

by blackeyedqueen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Minor Hunk/Lance (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-06 18:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16393184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedqueen/pseuds/blackeyedqueen
Summary: Shiro wishes he could tell Keith the real reason why not to worry. The real reason why he has no need to fear the werewolf lurking in the woods.A medieval village makes a human sacrifice to a werewolf that lives in the woods every year.





	1. Prologue

Takashi Shirogane stands near the doorway of his and Keith’s hut. His thumbs fiddle with the clasp of his cloak, still not used to using his prosthetic. It was a wooden thing, pumped with magic to make it almost as mobile as a real arm. It’s not perfect, but better than nothing. Yet Shiro still can’t get the fingers to cooperate with the finer motor skills. 

Keith comes up in front of him, hands coming up to clasp Shiro’s cloak. His lips are pressed in a thin line, and there’s worry etched into the details of his face.

It’s three days until the full moon.

Shiro brings up his own hand, his flesh one to rest on Keith’s shoulder. He squeezes, puts on his warmest smile, and says, “Thank you.” He knows Keith worries about him leaving at this time of the month, but doesn’t fight him on it anymore. 

“I wish you wouldn’t always go so close to the full moon,” He grumbles, instead of saying “you’re welcome.”

Shiro frowns. “I know. But I can’t help how my treatments line up.” Which is the truth. Every month, Shiro treks through the woods to meet with a healer to treat his illness. It's always around the time of the full moon, and Keith is never happy about it.

“Well then I wish you’d let me come with you.” Keith says, not making eye contact, one hand twisted in Shiro’s cloak and the other crossing his chest; Somewhere between closed off and holding on. 

“Suppose there really is a werewolf out there,” Shiro begins. “What good will it do if both of us get caught?”

Keith looks up now at Shiro, annoyed. “Then I can help you.”

“Keith--”

“Then I at least won’t be sitting here waiting to see _if_ you’ll return, or _if_ they’ll find your body in the woods!”

It pangs in Shiro’s chest how much Keith worries when he’s away. He wishes he could be more honest. But instead, he squeezes Keith’s shoulder again. “Keith, you have nothing to worry about. And I think you know that, or else you wouldn’t leave out a basket of food every month,” Shiro smiles, trying to lighten up the mood.

Keith blushes, embarrassed. “A basket of rotten food! Better the animals eat it, instead of it spoiling further. What makes you think it’s for the wolf?”

“The fact that it only goes out during the full moon.”

Keith huffs. “Well maybe if he eats from my basket, he’ll stop eating villagers.”

Shiro sighs, wishing Keith wouldn’t buy into the village hysteria. “I told you, those were clearly done by a real animal. Not a made up one.”

“He’s not made up, Shiro, he’s been seen!”  
“Keith, I promise... Those attacks weren’t supernatural.”

Keith, done arguing, simply sighs and finally frees Shiro’s cloak from his grasp. “Just... Be careful Shiro. Promise me that?”

Shiro smiles at him. “Of course. I have to get going, if I want to make it to the healer by sundown.”

They make eye contact for a moment, and Shiro can almost imagine a sense of longing lingering between them. Longing for a goodbye embrace, or maybe something more. But he’s just imagining it. Keith is his house mate, his friend, his... His Keith. Keith is just Keith, and Shiro appreciates that more than Keith will ever know. 

Shiro almost pulls Keith in for that goodbye hug, but he refrains. Instead, he slides his hand from Keith’s shoulder and down his arm, fingers brushing against Keith’s before he turns to head out the door. He grasps the handle, and Keith reminds him to not forget his travel bag as he picks it up for him and hands it over.

He walks out of the hut, and turns back to Keith still standing in the doorway and offers a wave and a small smile. Keith tries to return the smile, but Shiro can tell it’s tense, forced. So he turns instead to focus on his journey ahead.

He wishes he could tell Keith the real reason why not to worry. The real reason why Shiro has no need to fear the werewolf lurking in the woods. 

It’s because it’s him. Shiro is the werewolf that the village fears.


	2. The Lottery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some background, some plot set up, and some... cliffhanger?

It’s nearly month later, and Shiro and Keith stand together in the village square. Keith’s red cloak whips in the cold October wind as he holds it closer to himself. Shiro watches as Keith’s cheeks get redder and his dark hair rustles about in the breeze and thinks to himself, he should add a fur lining to Keith’s cloak. But Keith doesn’t know he can hunt. 

Shiro looks around at the other villagers, at all of the nervous and fearful faces. The rock in his gut sinks deeper with each passing second, his organs twisting, his chest growing tighter. He doesn’t fear for himself, no. It’s all the others who might meet a fate they don’t deserve.

It’s been five years since the horrible wolf beast has been spotted in the woods. It’s been five years since the scavengers went missing, and their remains later found. They were clearly attacked by an animal--a bear, if Shiro had to guess--but the village, on high alert since one of their own had come back to town traumatized by the monster he’d seen, were convinced that said monster had done it. And unfortunately, they weren’t the only scavengers to be attacked since then.

And what did the villagers decide was the appropriate way to deal with this? Well, by sacrificing one of their own, chosen by a lottery, to give as a gift to the beast. A peace offering, as if to say “Here is some food, we’ve killed it for you, please don’t hurt us.”

Shiro finds it quite disturbing how quickly the villagers turn on one of their own once they name is drawn. It sickened him every single year that they drew the name and imprisoned the poor soul.  
Shiro had told the council it was a disgusting practice. He had been against it since it'd been established, telling them the attacks were just animal attacks, and nothing else. But the villagers were afraid. They didn’t want to fear going into the woods, they didn’t want to fear for their children, or their neighbors, or their friends.

So Shiro had tolf them the lottery was counterproductive, it put their loved ones more at risk than just leaving the... _creature_ alone. 

But the council wouldn’t listen. He’d been sneered at by Lotor, one of the most affluent and influential members of the village, beside his mother, and now late father.

“Tell me, Shirogane, what makes you think _ignoring_ this problem will make it go away?”

Shiro had glared back. “The fact that it’s _not_ a problem. Just an unfortunate animal attack.”

“And what say you of the reverend’s son, who had seen the monster in the woods?”

“A trick of the eyes, perhaps.”

Except it wasn’t. Shiro really had been spotted by the reverend’s son by mistake when Shiro had accidentally wandered back too close to the village during one of his cycles. He hadn’t attacked or harmed the boy, hadn’t even growled. Just ran away once they’d made eye contact. Though he seemed to have left his impression on the boy regardless. 

It was a battle Shiro could not win, however. And every year for the past five years, Shiro stood in this crowd, waited for Lotor and his mother Haggar to draw the name of a villager that would soon die because of him.

He had constantly weighed the option of turning himself in. He thought of telling them he’s the wolf, there’s no need to kill any others. But would they believe him? Would they then think he’s a murderer? Would they execute him? Could he do that to Keith?

Shiro is brought back to the present as he looks over at Keith again. Keith hates this barbaric display more than Shiro does. Keith doesn’t have a lot of people in his life, and the idea of the number of those close to him dwindling away and not being able to do anything about it angers him.

Shiro had decided long ago, if Keith’s name were ever drawn for the lottery, Shiro would turn himself. Without any hesitation, he would finally come clean if it meant saving Keith.

Many times, he debated leaving. With Keith, preferably. But then he’d have to start over in a new village, and what if he gets found out again, and what if they react the same, or worse? And if Keith doesn’t come, that means leaving him behind. Keith’s whole life is here. Shiro doesn’t want Keith to leave it behind. And Shiro doesn’t want to leave Keith behind. So he stays, and he prays every night that the villagers will come to their senses and stop this nonsense. He had tried to object again at the last village meeting, telling them there had been no attacks lately and they may be clear to leave the monster alone. But to them, that only meant the sacrifices were working. 

Lotor and Haggar ascend the stage. Lotor’s long white hair is tied back, and his mother wears a long purple cloak They both look cold in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature.

Keith tenses next to Shiro, one arm crossed against his chest, and the other hand near his face, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. A nervous tick of Keith's, Shiro had noticed some years ago. Keith glares at the stage. All Shiro can think to do to comfort him is the rest his flesh hand on his shoulder. It does little, if anything, to calm Keith at all. 

“Thank you all for joining us this morning,” Lotor’s voice calls out over the crowd. A silence falls amongst them.

“It is time once again for our annual lottery. I know many of you are afraid. But the winner of this lottery holds the greatest honor, in serving to protect this village.”

Shiro seethes, and he feels Keith tense even further next to him. There is no honor in this.

“I am happy to announce there have been no attacks in the last sixteen months!” Lotor proclaims, smiling as if this is some accomplishment thanks to him. He’s met with some reluctant applause, led by his mother on stage. Shiro feels sick watching them.

“So, my dear neighbors. Just know that we are doing something good, and we are succeeding! The monster has taken mercy on us, and we shall continue to please him!” Lotor pauses, waiting for the crowd to cheer. However, he’s met with yet another round of very unenthusiastic applause. If it bothers him, he doesn’t let it show.

“Well, without further ado, let the lottery commence.” He stretches his arm out, as if to present Haggar, who will assist in drawing the name, as she always does. On the stage next to them is a large, round, wire cage, filled with balls that has each villager's name. Haggar cranks a handle, and the contraption begins to spin. Before long, a ball deposits from the cage, and Lotor walks over and collects it.

Lotor reads the name and Shiro can almost see the barest twitch of a smirk at Lotor’s lips. There’s no way Lotor gets enjoyment out of this... Is there? Perhaps there is, and that’s the real reason this barbaric practice is still happening year after year.

In the end, Lotor announces the name with a straight face. He turns to face the crowd, his voice once again ringing out, “I am pleased to announce the brave person who will assist in protecting this village this year, so that we may continue to live in peace. This year, our sacrifice is none other than...”

Lotor’s eyes find Shiro's in the crowd before he announces the name. His stomach drops. No... He can’t...

“Takashi Shirogane!”

His name is called out to the crowd. Takashi Shirogane is this years sacrifice... To _himself?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :o How will Shiro get out of this?
> 
> I wanted to get the second chapter out, since the first was so short. Sorry it's not very Sheithy yet, but it's coming [eyes emoji]. Hope you enjoy!


	3. The Bard and the Baker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little POV change to introduce hunk and lance (and thus a side pairing of hance) into the story. I really wanted to work them in, but wasn't sure how, so shout out to my friend Jack who suggested this!

Lance McClain stands toward the back of the crowd, nearly at the edge, with a battered lute strapped to his back and his arms crossed over his chest. He wishes, not for the first time that day, that Hunk would accompany him to such an atrocious event, but he knows his husband can’t stand it. Right now he’s back in their home, kneading the dough of his third loaf of bread. He’s also planning what spices and herbs he wants to put on turkey for dinner. Hunk’s mind already revolves around food, but in moments of high stress, it overtakes him. Lance is at least satisfied in knowing he’ll have a full belly when he gets home. Well, _if_ he gets home. But he's fairly certain he will return unharmed.  
  
As much as the Lotor and Haggar would like to boast about their random lottery, Lance knows better. The sacrifices always seem to be people rumored to have fallen out with Lotor, or elderly villagers that Lotor sees more as burdens, and less as people. Lance has done nothing he knows of to anger the council, and he’s still quite young, so he doesn’t believe he will be chosen as the sacrifice for a very, very long time. He’s tried to explain as much to Hunk, and to their ever bitter friend Keith, but the both of them are still disgusted by the whole ordeal. 

Lance wishes he could play his lute at the moment, string out a tune to lighten the mood of the tense and fearful atmosphere, but then he will run the risk of really being on the council’s bad side. So for now, he stands and waits. 

Lotor’s voice booms out over the crowd, welcoming everyone as if it’s some fun town event that everyone gets to join in. He then brags about how well the sacrifice is working since no one has been attacked lately. He then proceeds to talk about what an honor it is to be killed for the sake of “protecting” the town of some beast, and Lance fights not to roll his eyes.

If Lance had any coin to spare, he’d bet that the sacrifice would be the little old woman down the path from where he and Hunk live. She’s a sweet little lady, sure, but she has to be the oldest villager. Lance hadn’t heard any mumblings of anyone pissing Lotor off recently, but the councilman did like to hold a grudge. For all Lance knows, he could pick someone who angered him two years ago.

But then the name leaves Lotor’s mouth, and the air leaves Lance’s lungs.

“ _Takashi Shirogane_ ,” rings out over the crowd, and Lance swears a stunned silence falls over them. 

The first noise he registers is yelling. It’s Keith yelling, his friend, Shiro’s friend, Shiro’s housemate.

“I won’t let you take him!” He’s yelling and standing in front of Shiro as if he can stop Lotor’s guards from taking him.

Lance works his way into the middle of the crowd to get closer to them.

“No! I won’t let this happen!” But Keith is pulled aside by a guard. Perhaps not so easily, but pulled aside nonetheless. Keith tries to fight his way out of the guards grasp, but it does nothing. 

“Keith! Stop!” Shiro is yelling, trying to convince Keith not to get himself into trouble as guards take a hold of him as well. “Keith, please, just go back to the hut.”

“No! I won’t leave you, Shiro. And I won’t let them take you!” He still struggles to free himself from the guard’s hold.

“Keith! Please, you have to. Just go to the hut. It’ll be fine.”

“How is this fine, Shiro?!” And he’s got a point, because this is absolutely _not_ fine, but Shiro insists. 

“Just let them take me! I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything, but please, just go home!” Shiro is being dragged away, still yelling for Keith to go home.

Lance steps in front of Keith, putting his hands on his shoulders to try to ground him. “Keith, buddy, you need to calm down, alright? Why don’t you come with me? We’ll go back to my place. Hunk will get you some food...” It’s a weak ploy, and Lance knows that Keith could care less about food right now, but it’s all he has to offer. Keith, not surprisingly, ignores him and calls out Shiro’s name.

The guard must lose his grip on Keith’s arm, because the next thing that happens, is Keith smashes his elbow into the guard’s nose.

And Keith runs.

 

* * *

 

Keith runs, and Lance doesn’t follow. Keith, logically, shouldn’t be alone right now. However, Lance, logically, cannot handle or do anything at all to help a distraught and angry Keith. So Lance needs back up, and that means going back to his shack to tell Hunk the news and then make Hunk accompany him to Keith’s hut. 

The shack smells of yeast and herbs, and Lance wants nothing more than to sit down and eat a warm chunk of bread that’s just cooling from baking, but he has news to deliver first.

He walks in the door, drops into a seat at the table. Hunk doesn’t look up. He’s kneading another loaf of bread. 

“I... have some bad news,” Lance begins. 

Hunk continues kneading,

“It’s Shiro.”

Hunk freezes, fists mashed into the dough in front of him, pressing it into the splintered wood of the table. “What... What do you mean?”

Lance sighs. “It’s Shiro. He... He's the one they've chosen.”

Hunk sputters for a moment. “But... But, it couldn’t be. He’s not... He’s... He’s never done anything he just...”

“I agree. I don’t get it either.” Lance says, thinking back on the old woman down the path. Shiro was young and fit, and as far as he knew, never did anything that would warrant a death sentence from Lotor. Could it be the prosthetic? Sure, it was a bit clumsy, but the magic work has it working almost as good as a real life arm. 

Hunk’s fist slams into the dough, into the table. He turns away, and Lance hears the telltale sniffle that accompanies wet eyes,

Lance, hating to see his husband cry, rises from his seat to wrap his arms around Hunk’s middle. “Please, don’t cry. Maybe we can help him.”

“Help how?!” Hunk cries, voice wobbly and wet.

“I... I’m not sure. Maybe we can break him out.”

Hunk turns around to face Lance, an incredulous look on his face. “You think we should break _the sacrifice_ out of a heavily guarded cell? And just how do you suppose we do that?”

“I don’t know!” Lance exclaims. “But it’s better than crying about it! You’re sick of this aren’t you? These people dying every year, and Lotor standing up on stage acting like he’s doing us a favor?"

A brief look of anger flashes in Hunk’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Then let’s do something!”

Hunk hesitates, then moves back over to his dough. “I don’t know, Lance...” He starts kneading again.

“How can you think about baking right now?! Our friend is going to die.”

“I just need to think, Lance!” Hunk yells, as more tears fall from his eyes. Lance can't stand to watch Hunk cry. He needs to keep himself busy. He has a half formed plan and all he can do is try his best to get it off the ground.

Lance comes homes an hour later with a sack full of supplies--ropes, knives, helmets, a sword, and chains.

“What in heavens do you have?!”

“There’s no time to explain,” Lance says, out of breath. “I hope you’re ready to go, because I just stole all of this stuff and they’re going to realize it’s missing soon.”

“Lance! We talked about this, you need to quit with the thievery before the catch you.”

“Lecture me later, let’s go.”

Hunk grabs his cloak, knowing he won’t be able to talk any sense into Lance at this point, now that the crazed idea is in his head and he went out to _steal_ supplies. 

“And where exactly are we going, Master Planner Extraordinaire?”

“Keith’s hut, of course.”

Hunk and Lance step out into the chilly air, Lance heaving the sack over his shoulder. Hunk could easily carry it for him, but his husband made his choice and he’s going to have to live with it.

“We really shouldn’t bother Keith right now, he has to be devastated,” Hunk says.

“And that’s exactly _why_ we’re going to bother Keith right now. Whatever you think I have planned, he probably has a plan a thousand times better. Our best bet is to help him.”

Hunk sighs and follows Lance down the winding path toward the edge of the woods, a rock sitting in the pit of his stomach the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written anything from Lance or Hunk's POV, so i hope I did alright. Next chapter will Keith's POV :). Pidge is going to be introduced in a few chapters, and Allura and Coran will be introduced somewhere toward the end, if anyone is wondering.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be my first WIP fic that I'm going to upload as I complete chapters instead of all at once :o. I have no posting schedule for this, but I'm hoping to get chapters up soon, since I've already got an outline. Comments and kudos appreciated :).
> 
> Find me [@marmorasblade](http://twitter.com/marmorasblade) on twitter and [@fakegenjimain](http://fakegenjimain.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
